


Brighter Skies

by Rehearsal_Dweller



Series: Whatever Else Comes AU [2]
Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Gen, Parent Donald Duck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2019-11-18
Packaged: 2021-02-08 07:34:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21472342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rehearsal_Dweller/pseuds/Rehearsal_Dweller
Summary: Two conversations Donald needs to have (but kind of doesn't want to).
Relationships: Della Duck & Dewey Duck & Donald Duck & Huey Duck & Louie Duck, Dewey Duck & Donald Duck & Huey Duck & Louie Duck, Donald Duck & Della Duck, Donald Duck & Webby Vanderquack
Series: Whatever Else Comes AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1547776
Comments: 24
Kudos: 311





	Brighter Skies

**Author's Note:**

> The Dad!Donald AU part II!  
If anybody has anything else they'd like to see in this AU, I'm officially going all in and doing a series :) so let me know!

Donald Duck had never been asked to make a list of conversations he never wanted to have, but if he had been this conversation would have been top of the list.

“The thing is, Donald,” Della insisted, “I wasn’t _trying_ to leave the kids behind.”

“No, I get that,” said Donald. “I _get_ that.”

“So why –“

“Because it’s not really an intent thing, Dell,” he said, shaking his head. “At the end of the day – at the end of _ten years_, it’s the outcome that matters. And the outcome was you gone, presumably dead, and me raising triplets. Triplets, Della!”

“I know they’re triplets,” Della said flatly. “I didn’t mean to leave you behind with them! And I could’ve come home at any time!”

“First of all, _no_,” replied Donald. “And second of all, again, whether or not you meant to I’m currently standing at the end of eleven years of solo-childrearing and you really don’t have a claim on the title ‘mom’ anymore.”

They had been going back and forth like this for about forty-five minutes now, with no clear end in sight. Scrooge had been in the fray when they’d started, but now he just sat back in his chair and let the twins go at it.

“God, we’re not getting anywhere,” Donald said for what felt like the fiftieth time. “We’re going in circles.”

“We are not!”

“We are!” Donald crossed his arms. “Look, Dell, I’m done. Whether you like it or not, I’m the kids’ father. Whether you like it or not, they’re reluctant to call you mom because they don’t know you personally at all. I can’t force them to do anything, especially not to like you. That’s all you.”

“If you hadn’t decided to call yourself their father we might not be in this situation!” Della leaned forward, her metal foot creaking slightly as the ankle hinge bent.

“If you hadn’t taken the Spear I wouldn’t have needed to adopt the boys!” Donald shook his head, then glanced at Scrooge. “When you ran off, I blamed Scrooge for so long. He built the damned thing, right? And that was easier than blaming you when you were dead. But I just couldn’t let the kids feel the level of damage you’d done, that’s why I didn’t tell them you were their birth mom.”

“The _damage_,” Della repeated.

“Yeah, the damage,” said Donald. He looked to Scrooge again for support. “You leaving broke our family, Dell. And you left the kids behind. For a while I tried to cut everybody off and start over,” he smiled, “but my friends are too stubborn for that.”

Scrooge stood up. “We know you didn’t mean to leave and never come back, Della.”

Donald nodded. “But you kinda did.”

“And what, you two are just fine over it? Ganging up on me, ‘cause of course it’s all Della’s fault?” asked Della. She stomped toward the wide window, looking down at the grounds where the kids were setting up an elaborate game.

“We didn’t speak for ten years!” Scrooge snapped. “Donald already told you that he blamed me, and rightly.” He gave his nephew a sad look. “We lost so much time, because neither of us would back down.”

“We’ve only lived in the mansion again for about a year,” Donald said. “And for at least the first six months of that, Scrooge and I were barely on speaking terms. But then the kids found out about the Spear, and Magica de fucking Spell showed up, and Uncle Scrooge and I worked it out.”

Della whipped around to face her brother and uncle. “If you worked it out why are you still acting like this to _me_?”

Donald almost screamed; why was Della always so _like this_? “Because it’s _also your fucking fault!_ Because _somebody_ was so god damned self-centered that she couldn’t wait three more weeks to take her experimental prototype rocket for a joyride.”

“A _joyride?”_

_“_Yeah!”

“It was a test flight!”

“You _stole _it!”

“I borrowed it!” Della crossed her arms. “And it was built for me, anyway.”

“For _after_ the boys hatched,” Scrooge said, frowning.

“Yeah, yeah,” said Della. “But we were going behind Donnie’s back anyway and –“

She froze at the stony look on Donald’s face.

“I’m done with this,” Donald repeated. “Come talk to me when you’re not going to act like a child about it.”

He stormed out of the room. He was angry walking toward the houseboat when he ran into Huey.

“Hey, Hue-boo,” Donald said, frustration with his sister melting away in an instant. He caught Huey in a one-armed hug. “How’s it going?”

“Okay,” said Huey. He wriggled out of Donald’s arms and looked up at him. “Are you and Aunt Dell still fighting?”

Donald sighed. “Yes and no. _I’m_ done with it; she’s still upset with me.”

“Because you adopted us?”

“Mostly.” Donald shook his head, looking back toward Scrooge’s study. “More than anything, she’s just feeling defensive over the Spear thing. I stopped being angry about it a long time ago.” He ruffled the feathers on top of Huey’s head. “I had you guys, I couldn’t get stuck on worrying about people I’d lost.”

“She’s not – she’s not like Aunt Dais and Aunt Min’s stories,” Huey said. He played with the hem of his shirt, picking at a loose thread.

“She’s been alone for a long time,” Donald replied. “But I also happen to know that Daisy and Minnie like to tell you all the best parts of their stories about Della, and not the parts where Della was selfish or hot tempered or impulsive. They wanted her to be your hero.”

“She was,” said Huey. “She is.”

“Then they did their job, I think,” Donald said. “Hey, could you grab your brothers for a family meeting?”

“And Webby?”

“And Webby.”

Huey nodded. “I’ll go get them.”

“Houseboat in ten, okay?” Donald frowned. “I think we need to talk about Aunt Della.”

“Yeah,” said Huey. “Yeah, I think we do.”

\--

The kids tumbled into the living room all at once, exactly ten minutes later. They piled onto the couch, and Donald pulled his armchair over to face them.

“Okay, talk time.” He leaned forward, resting one of his elbows on his knee. “You’ve all been pretty quiet since I got home. I think it’s time we really talked about Aunt Della.”

Dewey settled back against the couch, his arms crossed. “Yeah, we better.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Were you ever going to tell us?” Louie asked. His hands were shoved deep into his pocket, and he wasn’t looking up at Donald.

“You kids aren’t gonna go easy on me, are you?” Donald asked. He took a deep breath. “Remember when you found out about the Spear of Selene, how angry and upset you were?” At the kids’ nods, he continued, “Well, you didn’t even know, then.” He looked over at the wall of photos by the stairs, a wave of old sadness washing over him. “I was always so afraid you’d feel like she abandoned you, if you knew. God knows I did.”

“Dad –“ Huey sat forward, frowning.

“I’m sorry for never telling you you were adopted,” Donald said. “I am _not_ sorry for adopting you.”

“Thanks,” said Dewey. Huey nodded.

“I get it,” Louie said. “But, like, were you ever going to tell us?”

“Of course I was,” said Donald. “And living here again had moved the timeline up pretty significantly, if I’m being honest with you. There was just never a good time, and I felt like I had all the time in the world. Since she was dead.”

“But then she walked right up to the mansion, not dead,” said Huey.

“That she did,” Donald replied, nodding. “How are you kids doing? About all of it?”

Webby pulled her knees to her chest, but didn’t say anything. Louie shrugged. Dewey said, “It’s weird; we always asked about our mom but. She’s not exactly – you know, this isn’t really what we expected?”

“I bet,” said Donald, smiling weakly.

“I think she _wants_ to be our parent,” Huey added, “but she really doesn’t know how. She’s kinda nailing ‘cool aunt’ though.”

“I don’t think she likes me,” Louie said eventually.

“She does,” Donald answered immediately. “She doesn’t understand any of your interests, but she likes you.”

“She tried to ground me, over the time travel thing, but went _way_ overboard.” Donald could see that Louie was shoving his fists further into his pocket, pushing the fabric outward. “Said if you weren’t around to do anything about it then she would have to, but just. She went too far.”

“Like, _way_ too far,” Huey agreed. “She drove him to villainy, Dad! He teamed up with Glomgold!”

“To _save_ your _lives_,” Louie mumbled, elbowing Huey.

“I heard.” Donald hadn’t been happy with his sister over her punishment of his son, not one little bit. It had been, unfortunately, the kickoff to _yesterday’s _ long fight over whether or not she had a right to parent the boys. “Webs, you good? You haven’t said much.”

Webby looked up at him, her eyes wide. She looked on the verge of tears, fussing with her skirt the way she sometimes did when she was struggling for words.

“Webby?” Donald said gently. “BK, you okay?”

That was what pushed her over the edge. “Do I still have a place in the family?”

“Oh, Webs,” said Donald as Webby burst into tears. Louie and Dewey, sitting on either side of her, both wrapped their arms around her. Huey reached around Dewey to put a hand on one of her feet. “Oh, Webby, Bonus Kid, of course you do! Why wouldn’t you?”

Donald stood up and moved to the couch, making space between Dewey and Webby just long enough to sit down, then letting Webby crawl into his lap. The boys piled on top, so Donald was completely buried in ducklings. He smoothed Webby’s hair with one hand, squeezing her close in a tight hug with the other. “Webby, sweetheart, what brought this on?”

Donald could only make out some of what Webby was saying through her sobs, but he had been a father for eleven years now and was pretty good at sorting out cry-talk meanings. It sounded like she’d been feeling a little lost and forgotten since Della had arrived, since Della was understandably pretty focused on the boys and the boys and Scrooge were focused on Della and Launchpad was getting pretty serious with his new fella and Webby was afraid they wouldn’t want her on adventures anymore.

“What was that about Launchpad?”

“S’got a boyfriend, Dad, keep up,” said Louie.

“He’s around a lot less now Aunt Della’s doing all the flyin’ anyway,” Dewey said sadly. Donald patted his head.

“That sucks buddy, I’m sorry,” Donald said. He turned his attention back to Webby. “Webs, how long have you been letting this build up?”

“A _while_,” Webby wailed.

“Since Aunt Dell got home?”

Webby nodded.

“Okay, here’s what’s going to happen.” Donald scooted Webby back a little bit so she was looking him in the eye, and made eye contact with each of the boys, too. “Nobody is losing their place in this family. Not for scheming, not for not being related by blood, not for _anything_. You hear me? There is room in our family for Della to be home.” He swept Webby’s hair away from her face. “We had room for you, didn’t we?”

She nodded tearfully.

“Now, I think we all need to get out of the house,” Donald said. “Mickey and Minnie are in town, they keep texting me about meeting up. What do you say to lunch with some movie stars?” The boys cheered.

“Webby, have you met Aunt Min and Uncle Mick?” Huey asked.

“Uh, no?”

Donald ruffled her hair. “Oh, you’re in for a real treat.”


End file.
